The axe in Lager’s hand swung with great force, the gusts of wind it stirred up felt like they could sting a person’s face.
If someone were directly hit by the axe, it would mean losing an arm or a leg.
Mo Li’s figure swayed in the fierce wind, as if he were so fragile that the wind could tear him apart.
His white cloak fluttered with the wind, and even in his poor condition, the large axe couldn’t touch a single hair on him.
Gradually, Lager started to get anxious.
The more the boy evaded him, the more...
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